Ελπιζόν και όλης γαιης ηγήτορες είναι,
Και διέπειν ιδιοις έθνεα παντα νόμοις.
Αλλα χρονος τοισιν μεν ενεκλασσεν μενος η
Πανδαμάτωρ, πασας και διέλυσε πολεις.
Ποιον δη κύδος τέφανοι σε, Βρετανία, νήσος
Η μεν εν Ωκεανῳ βαρβαρ' εκειτο παλαι;
Νυν δε χθονος λιτάρης και άλος διης βασίλισσα
Αγλαον εκλάμπεις ύψι φέρεσα χαρη.
Σκήπτρον έχεις βασίλειον απ' αντολίης επι δυσμών,
Βορέης ενθα βρεμει εσχατος, ενθα Νότος.
Πανταχόθεν νικωσα επιπρηΰνας ανακτας,
Κλεισ' ίλαως τας πολεμοιο πυλας.
Δηθα δε κληίζοιντο, τεως στο ΓΕΩΡΓΙΟΣ αρξει
Ος Μεσας, σοφίην, ευσεβίαν τε
Τῳ μεν ελευθερίην, αμετρον τῳ πλετον οφείλεις,
Ειρηνην ἱερην, πολυτενες τε κρατος.
Μελλεις εν συ καλείθαι αληθινος ομφαλος αιης,
Ομφαλος 8σ' αρχης εμπορίας τε καλης.
Michael Lort, S. T. B. Coll. S. S. Trinitatis Socius,
et Græcæ Lingua Professor Regius.
Commissum perfecit opus: quem condidit, orbem
Restituit lapsum.
ENOUGH has fiction's fairy scene deceived
My dreaming hours of youth: with pensive step
Musing along the cloister's silent gloom,
Thee, holy Truth, I woo: thy graceful charms,
Far lovelier than the damask rose that glows
On Beauty's cheek, the poet's moral strain
Excite. Ye fabled songs, adieu! Adieu,
Imagination, to the dazzled eye
Shooting thy gorgeous phantoms! hence, ye dreams
Of sublunary glare, the gem of wealth,
The plume of honour! To her aweful shrine
Devotion wafts me, where the white-robed priest
With heart-felt transport on the wing of prayer
* Of this Poem, though the author liberally distributed fifty large paper and forty-two small paper copies in presents, two hundred and five were sold: a result (it is to be apprehended) not generally now experienced.
The Judges were Dr. BARNADISTON, Vice Chancellor.
Dr. GODDARD, Master of Clare-Hall.
M. LORT, Greek Professor.
Extatic rises, or with waving hand
And all the decent elegance of ease
Mysterious truth unfolds, whilst on his tongue
Attention hangs enraptured. At that altar
Peace sheds her balmy influence, far from Guilt
And all his hideous offspring; Envy, wan
With jaundiced eye, Ambition's blustering voice
Brawling for titles, hollow-hearted smile
Of cringing Adulation, dog-eyed Lust
Rifling the bosom of chaste innocence.
For say, can Fancy, fond to weave the tale Of bliss ideal, feign more genuine joy Than thine, PHILANDER, when the man of God Gives to thy hand the consecrated cup, Blessed memorial of a Saviour's love!
Glowing with zeal the humble penitent
Approacheth: Faith her fostering radiance points
Full on his contrite heart: Hope cheers his steps,
And Charity, the fairest in the train
Of Christian virtues, swells his heaving breast
With love unbounded. Feast of bliss supreme,
To eat the bread of life, to drink the cup
Of benediction !-Memory bids the scene,
Th' important scene, arise when dread dismay
Alarm'd the nations. Melt, thou heart of brass:
Death triumphed o'er it's victor. Wild amaze
Seized all the host of heaven, moaning their God
In agony transfixt, his every sense
A window to affliction: sorrow fill'd
Their tide of tragic woe, and changed the note
From fervent rapture to the gloomy strain
Of deepest lamentation. O how pure
Th' effulgence of his bounty, that completes
Redemption's mighty work, the source of joy!
Hail heavenly Love, that with eternal sway
Pervadest creation's amplest bounds! 'Twas Love,
That bade existence spring to life: the sun,
Insphered in radiancy, began his course,
And Vegetation from the earth's warm lap
Call'd forth her genial powers. 'Twas Love, that form'd
Redemption's glorious plan. Ye white-winged hosts,
Cherubs and seraphs, that enrobed in light
Drink the pure stream of ever-during day,
In hallelujahs chaunt the grateful hymn
Of adoration from your sapphire seats
Hail the glad tidings, that to man is given
A Saviour merciful. But chiefly ye,
Daughters and sons of Adam, raise the song
Of gratulation meet. Ye young, ye gay,
Listen with patient ear the strains of truth:
Ye who in dissipation waste your days,
From pleasure's giddy train O steal an hour,
With sage reflexion; nor disdain to gaze
The solemn scene on CALVARY's guilty mount,
Where frighted Nature shakes her trembling frame,
And shudders at the complicated crime
Of deicide. The thorn-encircled head
All pale and languid on the bleeding cross,
The nail-empierced hand, the mangled feet,
The perforated side, the heaving sigh
Of gushing anguish, the deep groan of death,
The day of darkness, terror, and distress-
Ah! shall not these awake one serious thought?
Sin, I detest thee: murtherous Child of Night,
Hence to thy native hell! In Eden's vale
Roved our first parents, bosom'd in content;
Gay as the spring, and innocent as gay.
Thou, thou did'st dash their bliss, their sweets of joy
Misfortune's haggard crew creation ruthless prowl'd,
Th' Almighty's anger?-Yes: the victim bleeds,
His own dear Son, from bondage to exalt
A ransom'd world, to blast the damning power
Of Satan, Sin, and Death. How changed from him,
Whose majesty in native lustre shone
Sevenfold, when on th' eternal throne he smiled,
Long ere yon planets in their measured orbs
Revolved or walking on the whirlwind's wing
He raised his arm, and drove the rebel brood
Down to their black abyss! Beneath his feet
The flames flash'd horrible: before him filed
The ghastly train of pestilence and woe.
On revelation's sacred page intent,
The eye of Faith surveys the mighty deed.
Shadow'd in mystic type, when Abram urged
By heaven's all-wise behest with eager zeal
Snatch'd from a mother's weeping care the Child
Of Laughter, on Moriah's secret top
Binding the spotless hands of innocence.
How vain the breath, how empty all the boast
Of popular applause! To day we soar
The sons of fortune, favour'd by the crowd,
Their idol and their God. The morrow blights
Our bud of fame. The rabble change their notes
From hoarsest acclamation to the hiss
Of harsh contempt: the many-headed beast-
Hark! how he shouts for blood and impious carnage!
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